The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones.
—William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar
1938
Joe Tenant tied the barge to the dock. The water licked its sides, and the boat swayed back and forth. The chill of the morning air made him shiver, and he wished for the sun to rise a little faster. He pulled the knot tight, made sure it was secure, and stepped onto the wooden planks.
A few men sorted through their lunch boxes, looking for a quick breakfast before starting the day shift. Tenant always thought that odd, because, as long as he’d worked the night shift, the morning had always signaled dinner to him. Working nights was difficult, adjusting to the schedule, keeping a wife happy, but Tenant enjoyed the silence.
“Hey, Tugboat, how’s the water today?” one of the daymen asked. “They’re transferring me to nights next week, so I want to enjoy it while
